


drawing battle lines

by Bookdancer



Series: checking vital signs [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Car Accidents, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, athena is buck's mom sorry i don't make the rules, featuring whump and the immediate aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookdancer/pseuds/Bookdancer
Summary: It’s not often that a gun is introduced to an ongoing 911 call. It just so happens that Buck is between Athena and the gunman.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Athena Grant
Series: checking vital signs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596580
Comments: 22
Kudos: 392





	drawing battle lines

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is my first ever 9-1-1 fic as well as the first fic in this series!
> 
> the series summary is: 5 times Buck prioritizes his family’s wellbeing over his own, and the 1 time they help him prioritize himself.
> 
> thanks to @queenofmoons67 (tumblr handle) for beta-ing!
> 
> in addition, the series and fic titles are variations of lyrics from the score’s “born for this”
> 
> anyway, i don't own 9-1-1, and i've also cross-posted this fic to both tumblr (@bookdancerfics) and ff.net (Bookdancer). i hope you all enjoy!

The call comes in just as the sun is going down, orange bleeding across the horizon with the half moon already in the sky. It’s not quite dark yet, but it will be soon, and Athena switches her blinker on and makes the turn almost before she even thinks to do so.

It’s not a call she usually responds to. Dispatch reported a four car pile-up, minimal injuries, and the only thing that brings Athena to the site is the knowledge that an accident of that size has the chance of blocking traffic, and she’s just a couple blocks away. With dusk on the rise, someone should make sure that an officer is on site to direct cars and pedestrians, just in case. The siren call of her husband potentially responding to the same call beats in her chest, and Athena lets her mouth twitch into a smile at the thought.

She rounds another corner and the accident comes into view, a sedan and some fancy looking car crushed into the back of a truck that’s T-boning a minivan. All four cars huddle around the corner of an intersection, and it isn’t hard to guess that the truck driver had run into the minivan while making the turn. Two of her officers are already on scene, one waving traffic around the accident while the other talks with a middle-aged white man dressed in what looks like a newly pressed suit. He’s doubtlessly the owner of the fancy car, and Athena can already feel a headache coming on, but she parks her cruiser nonetheless.

“Sergeant,” her officer says as she approaches, the relief obvious in his voice.

“Parkins,” she returns, and eyes Newly Pressed Suit. “Are you having any trouble processing the accident?”

“No, ma’am,” Parkins says, but his eyes flicker to the obvious problem anyway. “I was just discussing with Mr. Taylor here about how he can’t actually press charges since it’s a civil suit and not a criminal one.”

“I see,” Athena says, crossing her arms. She levels a stern look at “Mr. Taylor” and can’t help the rush of satisfaction when his back automatically straightens. “Let me know if you need anything, then.”

She turns at Parkins’s nod just as a firetruck and ambulance pull up to the scene, a large _118_ emblazoned on the truck. Within seconds Hen and Chimney are at the minivan, Eddie the civilian’s truck, and Buck nearing the sedan.

In the end, it comes down to mere happenstance—Mr. Taylor arguing with Parkins at the back of the collision, all the other drivers and passengers still in their vehicles, Buck catching Athena’s attention while he’s at the back of the sedan instead of the front. A hand sticking through the sedan’s taillight.

Athena’s hand goes to her gun on instinct, even as she looks from the taillight to the driver’s side of the sedan. The driver is stepping out, and his voice reaches her ears even though she’s several yards away.

“If there’s no problem, can I go? I’m not worried about insurance or anything, and I’m fine.”

She’s yards away. The fact runs through her mind even as she calculates all of the variables, even as her world narrows to this single corner of the intersection. She’s yards away and somehow she can still pinpoint the moment when they make eye contact, the moment when he realizes she knows.

She’s yards away when he pulls his gun.

“LAPD, put the gun down!” she barks. Her own gun is out in seconds, and she can see Parkins turning in her peripheral vision, hand already flying to his own weapon. Her other officer turns as well, traffic halting around them, and the 118 freeze where they are. Mr. Taylor and the sedan driver are the only ones out of their cars, and Bobby is still at the firetruck, closer to Parkins and Mr. Taylor than to his own team.

The driver points his gun at Athena, then Buck, then Athena again, and finally stops it on Buck.

“Buck,” Athena says, and he slowly turns to look at her, eyes wide. “I need you to step away from the sedan.”

The gun jerks in the driver’s hand. “He can stay where he is.”

“Athena,” Buck says.

“Okay,” she replies, because the driver’s hand and gun are shaking now, and she knows a scared shooter is far more dangerous than a steady one. “It’s fine, Buck. Stay where you are. Sir, what’s your name?”

She directs the question at the driver, her voice raised ever so slightly so she can make sure he hears her.

“Like I would tell you,” he says. “I need you to let me go.”

“Alright,” Athena says, and nods. “We can try to reach an agreement. But first, can you tell me who’s in your trunk? Do they need medical assistance?”

The driver shakes his head, either not paying attention to or completely ignoring her last questions. “You need to let me go.”

“Sir,” Athena tries again. “If you keep threatening Firefighter Buckley, then we will be forced to take action. Do you understand that? We will do our best to reach an agreement with you, but first you need to put the gun down and tell us who’s in your trunk.”

“I understand,” the driver says, nodding slowly, and Athena watches with a mix of trepidation and relief as he lowers the gun. “I understand perfectly.”

In the next moment, Athena only gets a glimpse of the gun coming back up, pointed right at her, before Bobby yells her name and suddenly she’s not staring down the barrel of a gun anymore.

She’s staring at Buck’s back.

“No!” she screams, but the gunshot is already echoing in her ears when Laurey, the officer who’d been directing traffic, shoves the sedan driver to the ground and disarms him in the same motion. Buck lies in a collapsed heap next to them.

“Athena?” Bobby says from behind her, and his hand clenches around her shoulder.

“I’m okay,” she answers, but her gut churns and she has to clear her throat to stop from showing more emotion than she wants to. She’s still on duty. She can cry later.

Bobby nods, but as soon as he gets verbal confirmation from her, his attention switches to the scene by the sedan.

“Hen and Chim, with Buck,” he yells. Just as he’s about to join his team, though, he comes to an abrupt stop and turns back to her. “You said there was someone in the trunk.”

Athena nods.

Bobby nods back, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, face pointed to the sky, before he releases it and looks back at Buck. Hen, Chimney, and Eddie are all with him already, Hen and Chimney spouting medical jargon even as they try to stop the bleeding and Eddie smooths Buck’s hair back. There’s a pool of blood growing on the pavement by Buck’s left side despite their best efforts, and Buck has a fistful of Eddie’s pant-leg in one hand and his fingers digging at the pavement with the other. Even from here, as they watch Chimney move Buck’s hand from the pavement to his own shirt, they can tell he’s in pain, but Athena knows her husband. He’s still as focused on his job as she is, despite his no doubt desperate need to be with Buck.

“Okay,” Bobby says, his voice as hard as it is reluctant. “Eddie, get the jaws of life.”

“Cap,” Eddie protests, barely sparing a glance for them before he turns back to Buck.

“Eddie,” Bobby returns. “There’s a civilian in the trunk of the sedan. Let Hen and Chimney do their jobs and get the jaws, I need you with me.”

Athena doesn’t know what Eddie would have done if Buck held on, but even as she watches his fingers loosen and his lips move, likely pushing Eddie to do as Bobby said.

“Okay,” Eddie says, and before Athena can transfer her attention to the potential kidnapping or homicide victim, Laurey moves in front of her with the cuffed driver, the question obvious on his face as he defers to her higher command.

Athena turns to him, trying to focus. “You’ve read him his rights?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She clears her throat. “Get him in the cruiser. I want him in lock-up ASAP.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Laurey says, and directs the driver away.

Athena looks at them, then at the sedan, and then back at them. “And get me an identity!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Laurey calls back.

Athena finally turns back to the 118, but as much as she aches to be with them, to make sure that Buck will be okay, she’s still a sergeant on duty, and she knows that will always come first.

“Dispatch,” she says, holding her radio. “This is Sergeant Athena Grant with the 118 on the corner of 12th and Carol, requesting immediate assistance. We had shots fired, a firefighter down, the pile-up was never taken care of, and I’m losing my only two officers on the scene—” Even as she says it, she waves Parkins to join his partner; Mr. Taylor had retreated to his fancy car as soon as the situation cleared.

“10-4, Sergeant Grant,” the dispatcher responds. “Is the scene still active?”

“Negative,” Athena says. “But we have a potential kidnapping or homicide victim.”

“10-4, Sergeant Grant, assistance is on its way.”

Athena clicks the radio off and turns back to the 118. Hen and Chimney had gotten Buck onto a backboard at some point, and Buck’s hands white-knuckle the grips on that instead of his teammates’ clothes.

“Cap,” Hen calls, “we’re ready to transfer him to the hospital.”

“Good,” Bobby calls back. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do,” Hen says, and Athena turns back to Bobby and Eddie before she gets distracted.

“How’s it coming?” she asks.

Bobby glances at her. “As fast as we can push it. We got the Rolls-Royce to back up, give us some room, but the whole trunk is crumpled in on itself so we can’t just open it like normal, we have to get in with the jaws of life. And we’re a bit distracted.”

He spares another look to the ambulance, where Chimney is closing the back doors, and Athena squeezes his shoulder.

“He’s in good hands,” she says.

Bobby nods. “I know.”

“Almost there, Cap,” Eddie says then, and that’s when another firetruck, ambulance, and two squad cars pull up.

* * *

A full two hours pass before Athena can join the 118 at the hospital with Buck. Before that, she oversees the recovery and treatment of the kidnapped victim, as well as the treatment of the car crash victims, and then returns to her precinct to write up the paperwork that came with all that happened. The whole process takes her well into overtime, but she finally steps into the hospital and automatically spots the group of 118 firefighters and paramedics, as well as Maddie, Christopher, and Carla. They’re all grouped in the corner of the waiting room, talking in low voices, sleeping, or flipping aimlessly through the hospital magazines.

“Still no news?” she asks anxiously, easily making the transition from sergeant to friend despite the fact that she hadn’t bothered to stop and change into street clothes.

Bobby takes her hand and guides her into an open seat next to his, then kisses her cheek. “Not yet,” he murmurs, and squeezes her hand. “But sometimes no news is good news, right?”

Athena nods and does her best to breathe. “May and Harry?”

“Michael has them,” Bobby answers. “It’s a school night and he said he didn’t mind the change of schedule.”

Athena nods again, breathes. “Good. I wouldn’t want to worry them unnecessarily.” She turns to face Bobby fully, unable to ignore the churning in her gut that’s started up again. “Do we know if it would be unnecessary yet?”

Bobby shakes his head. “Not yet,” he admits, his voice hoarser than it was before.

“Oh,” Athena says. It feels like there’s a pit in her stomach, and it only worsens as the minutes pass. “Let me just—”

She motions vaguely, not knowing if she really knows what she needs to do, but Bobby nods like he understands, and she supposes he does. He was here a whole hour before her, after all.

Athena stands, rubs her hands on her slacks, and finally sets eyes on Maddie. She’s huddled in against Chimney even with the arms of their chairs in the way, and it doesn’t take a detective to guess that she’s been crying. The other seat next to her is taken, but Athena doesn’t hesitate to kneel in front of her instead and place a hand on her knee.

“Maddie,” she says, and smiles wanly when the eldest Buckley sibling meets her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“No,” Maddie says, and sniffles as she sits up and takes Athena’s hand in hers. “Don’t apologize. Buck made his choice, and as angry as I am at him for being dangerously reckless again, I would never want you to be in his position right now.”

Athena nods for what seems like the thousandth time since the whole mess began, her entire body feeling heavier than normal. She hasn’t relaxed since she spotted the kidnapping victim’s hand.

She squeezes Maddie’s hand, gives her her best smile, and stands. “I’ll be with Bobby, but just let me know if you need anything, okay? You, too, Chimney.”

Maddie squeezes her hand back, a smile tugging at her own lips. “You, too, ‘Thena. And hey—” Maddie grips her hand harder. Smiles some more. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Athena nods and lets out a breath. “Thanks.”

She lets go of Maddie’s hand, walks back to Bobby, and sits in the chair he’d left open for her.

And they wait.

* * *

It feels almost like forever that they sit in the waiting room, long enough for Athena to pull out her phone, text her kids, text Michael, thank Laurey for letting her know that they’d finally gotten the identity of the driver. She can’t measure time in seconds, minutes, or even hours anymore—at some point it becomes the number of times a doctor comes through the door with news about someone other than Buck, the number of coffee cups slowly collecting on the tables, the number of times she feels like crying and clutches Bobby’s hand instead. The number of times Bobby clutches at hers.

When yet another doctor finally comes through the doors of the waiting room, Athena doesn’t even bother looking up until she hears “family of Evan Buckley?”

She’s standing in the next moment with no recollection of having done so, but she doesn’t bother with the gap in time and instead lets Bobby pull her into the small group of people still left waiting for news. Her, Bobby, Chimney and Maddie, Hen, Carla, Eddie and Christopher. It’s eight people, but compared to the larger number of 118 firefighters and paramedics earlier, their group practically seems tiny.

The doctor eyes them all, obviously skeptical, but finally clears her throat and smiles at them. “He’s going to be fine.”

* * *

The doctor and nurses are only letting two visitors in at a time, and Athena waits in a hallway chair with her leg bouncing as Maddie and Bobby, then Eddie and Christopher, all go in to see Buck. Maddie comes out with fresh tear tracks on her cheeks, but also a smile, and Bobby returns with the tension gone from his shoulders and a soft grin on his face that Athena doubts he even knows is there. Eddie and Christopher also come out smiling, and Athena goes to wave Hen and Chimney inside only to find them hanging back.

“Go on, ‘Thena,” Hen says.

“Oh, no, I—” Athena protests, but the two just shake their heads.

“We know you want to,” Chimney says, and that’s that.

Athena goes in alone, peaking inside to see Buck laying back with the top half of the bed propped up and at least four different machines surrounding him.

“Hey, Athena,” he says, smiling at her.

“Hey, Buckaroo,” she returns, and closes the door behind her. One of the machines whirs. Another beeps. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m really sorry,” Buck says suddenly, and Athena finds herself nodding sharply.

“You should be; you scared the crap out of us. Again.”

“Right,” Buck says, “exactly.” He picks at his sheets, his mouth twisting and eyes downcast.

Athena sighs and settles herself on the bed by his hip, careful of his side.

“Buck,” she says, and then waits, but his eyes are still looking everywhere but her. “Look at me.”

He raises his head, eyes searching, until finally his gaze settles on her shoulder and she figures that’ll have to be enough.

She coughs. “Thank you.”

“What?” This time his eyes meet hers, and she makes sure to smile at him.

“Thank you. What you did was brave, and you may have saved my life.” She fixes him with the sternest look she can muster. “Just don’t do anything like that again. Bobby’s supposed to be teaching you how to be brave and _smart_ , not brave and stupid.”

Finally, Buck grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

He throws her a mock salute, and Athena scoffs, but she can’t help but smirk back and draw him in for a hug. When they finally pull away from each other, they both pretend she’s not wiping at her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a tumblr account, @bookdancerfics, so please feel free to drop by. sometimes i post writing updates
> 
> in addition, because i'm posting this 5+1 series as a *series* and not a fic, if you want to be alerted to the next installment then please subscribe to the series instead of the fic!
> 
> and, finally, please comment here! i love hearing what people think <3


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